Chapter 7

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Chapter 7: VII

Summary:

Louis faces the three people who give a shit.

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Louis was sitting alone in the second row of his bio lecture. No one else had arrived yet, and he bounced his leg up and down nervously. He looked like shit. He hadn't slept at all, and he felt disgusting sitting there in yesterday's clothes. They were soiled, having been torn from his body in anger by Matt. His whole being my soiled. His heart was poisoned by the callous way Matt had fucked him.

Sitting in that seat, knowing other people were coming, that he'd be seen like this, made him anxious. Knowing that Harry, of all the people in the world, was going to see him like this? That made him more than anxious. It made him sick to his stomach. He was disgusting and Harry was going to know that.

Honestly, he hated that he felt such an obligation to Harry. If it weren't for him being his partner, Louis would have never come to that class. He wouldn't be sitting there in his filth, waiting for Harry so he could pretend he was okay.

The whole thing was fucked up and a large part of him wished Harry had never bothered. If he'd never been nice to Louis, Louis wouldn't have had to be sitting there.

Harry's friends came in first and Louis hoped that maybe Harry would just wave to him and sit with them. That would have made his life so much simpler.

But, Harry came in just a minute before the professor and he made a beeline straight for Louis. He had a smile on his face and two teas in his hands, but it didn't seem like he was fully convinced. Louis felt sick again. Harry could probably see how broken Louis was. How thoroughly fucked up he was. He probably regretted his choice to sit next to him. Louis was a mess.

"Hey," said Harry so soft that Louis nearly missed it. This was the part were Louis needed to fake a smile. Harry pushed a takeaway cup toward him, "just a bit of milk,"

Louis hadn't used his voice at all that day. He hadn't spoken to a single soul, so when he opened his mouth to thank Harry for once again being the most thoughtful human being on earth, his voice was scratchy. He probably still wasn't fully recovered from crying for most of the night.

"You didn't have to," he said.

"But I wanted to,"

Louis hoped his smile was less pathetic than it felt, "thank you,"

Their prof cleared his throat then, signalling that lecture was starting. Louis tore his eyes away from Harry, but even as he stared at the front of the room, he felt Harry's eyes on him. He wondered what Harry must have thought about the sight before him. Louis had clearly been fucked hard for most of the night, and he was sure that anyone looking at him could see the shame on his skin. He'd barely pulled himself together, hadn't even changed his clothes. Harry was probably now realizing that Louis was a lot more to sign up for than he'd initially thought. Their professor's words, Niall's warnings, they were probably all starting to make sense to him now. He was probably seeing Louis for real now. Louis tried to stifle the part of him that was disappointed that it had to happen so soon.

Halfway through lecture, their professor left the room. Harry turned to him immediately. Louis had felt Harry's gaze on him for most of the lecture, but now that Harry was actually looking at him and Louis was looking back, he realized what Harry was staring at. His eyes were on the part of Louis bicep that his tshirt exposed. Stupid Louis had been so concerned with everything else that he'd forgotten to even notice the bruising there. The worst part was that he couldn't even attempt to pass it off as something else. It was a handprint shaped bruise that was very clearly put there by someone who had grabbed him too hard. And now Harry could see it. He could see how easily Louis submitted to anyone who asked

Save Myself  // Larry Stylinson Where stories live. Discover now